No Regrets
by Kaylien
Summary: It wasn’t the push Charlie hated. Alan doesn't understand why Charlie won't visit Don.
1. Chapter 1

|Disclaimer: I hereby tell the world that I do not own Numb3rs. If I did I wouldn't be writing this fic. I'd be pushing the real owners to carry out my storyline wishes. :) Please do not sue me.|

| Rating: K+ |

|Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Drama |

|Characters: Don Eppes, Charlie Eppes, Alan Eppes, Amita Ramanujan & Robin Brooks|

|A/N: Originally titled 'Push'. Also, this is my first Numb3rs fic, so er… be nice? But _do_ review. :) Reviews are like food to me.|

|Spoilers: No real spoilers.|

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No Regrets

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Life goes on. True. _Not true_. At least not for the victims or their family members. Alan Eppes knew this, he knew this better than anyone. No, life stops. Movement freezes and seconds turn into eternities. Was it okay to breathe? He didn't know. He didn't know when he found out about his wife's illness, he didn't know now. Now, many years later. His boys had grown, gotten stronger. He wasn't so sure if he'd _evolved_ with them. He didn't feel strong. How could he feel strong while his legs were shaking? How could he feel strong when he couldn't even get a lungful of air. Precious air. He'd been here, he'd done this. He'd gone through the pain of not knowing, gone through the pain of _knowing_. He'd survived the worry, but didn't know how. _How_ could he possibly survive this time? Again. He didn't dare look at his oldest son, afraid of what his eyes might encounter. _Please not again_.

He sat down, in the chair closest to his son's hospital bed. Alan finally dared a glimpse.

"Donnie," he whispered. He suddenly felt the urge to say more, but couldn't think of any words. There were no right words. Instead he took his son's left hand into his own two hands. The IV disturbed him a little, maybe even more so than the nasal cannula. Both were nothing compared to the injury hidden by the hospital gown and the blanket layers. He rubbed the side of Don's wrist with his thumb. To console his son, to comfort himself.

"I'm here," he added. _Talking helps_, the nurses had told him. Alan realized he wasn't good at this. He didn't know what to say, what to do, he just didn't know. He felt lost and helpless and the one-sided conversation he was struggling to continue wasn't helping him a bit. Not at all.

"I don't know if you can hear me." He stopped talking for a moment and focused on his son's pale complexion. He wished Don would wake up and tell him it was just a graze. Just a graze, nothing to worry about. He realized that it wasn't _just a graze_. "I hope you can hear me."

Don was going to be fine. He had to be. _Both_ of his sons were going to be fine.

"I need you to wake up and tell me you're going to be fine," he explained to his comatose son. "_For me_, it's a selfish thing. I don't know if I can take this any longer. I can't take the waiting, Donnie. I can't." He was begging his son to wake up. He found it hard to breathe.

"Charlie is going to be okay," he continued, "he hit his head. Nothing serious, that's what the doctor said. He's resting at home."

Another pause. "Amita's with him. You don't have to worry." _I don't have to worry_. A knock on the door interrupted his one-way conversation. The door was open, but she had the decency to knock before she entered the room.

"Robin," he greeted the visitor.

Before he could add anything, she handed him a cup of coffee. "How is he?" she asked as she sat down in the other chair, cradling her own cup of coffee.

"No change," he admitted, "the doctors don't understand why he isn't awake yet."

Robin just nodded before taking a sip from her coffee. Lousy coffee on a depressingly bad day. _The joys of life_.

For a while they just sat there in complete silence, figuring the other's company was enough. Robin wanted to smile reassuringly and tell Alan, who had definitely treated her like a daughter, that Don would be okay. It was the truth, right? She didn't want to consider the alternative. Smiling was too much of an herculean effort though. She'd tried it, but she couldn't. She truly wanted to reassure Alan, but the real truth was that she needed to reassure herself first. It was as 'simple' as that. Or maybe it wasn't simple at all.

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Amita found Charlie lying on the couch in the Craftsman's house. As she came closer, she noticed the youngest Eppes wasn't sleeping. His eyes were wide open and he seemed lost in thought.

"Charlie?" she interrupted his ponderings. When he didn't respond, she tried again, "Charlie?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure you don't want to rest in an actual bed?" She didn't understand the attractiveness of that particular couch.

"No. Don't need to rest, feel fine."

Amita didn't push the matter, she believed him. After all, it was in fact a mild concussion and he'd rested for the last two days. For a moment she considered his reply. It was an answer Don would give as well. Don and Charlie were so much more alike than either of them knew. Bringing up his brother didn't seem like a good plan, but she needed to know. "Okay. Are you going to the hospital today?"

"No." His incredibly short answer surprised her a little.

"No? Is your head still bothering you?"

"My head's fine."

"Then why-"

"Not going, Amita."

She wondered where their conversation had taken a turn for the worse.

"Are you telling me that you're angry?" She could read him, read him like no one else could, except for maybe his dad and brother.

"No. _Yes_, maybe I am." He, of all people, was being irrational. No one would understand, he figured. Still, what he was feeling was anger even if he didn't have the right to be angry.

"Charlie, Don just saved your life." _There_, she said it.

"I _know_ that." He felt his concussion coming back with a vengeance. Somewhere deep down he knew he was overreacting. He knew he wasn't seeing the whole picture. For now, he just wanted to rest and clear his head. He closed his eyes.

There were moments she didn't understand him at all.

"Well, I _am_ going."

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"I'll talk to him," Alan offered. That was all Amita needed to hear to know things were going to be okay again, hopefully soon. Alan had always been the voice of reason. His voice carried far and the brothers knew that listening to that voice was the best course of action. She just hoped that his voice would be enough to talk some sense into Charlie.

"You should get some rest too, take care of yourself. You've been here longer than I have. I'll stay with him," Robin interrupted his line of thought.

"I'm staying too," Amita added. Father and son needed some space to talk. She understood. Right now, she would stay at the hospital, with Don, who she'd come to see as a brother. At least until Alan had managed to talk to Charlie about all of this.

Seeing his slight hesitation, Robin added, "We'll call if there's any change."

It was a given, but he still wanted to hear them say it. _Call me and I'll hurry back here_. Before leaving, he went over to his son's bed, leaned forward and placed a kiss on top of Don's forehead. "I'll be back before you know it, Donnie." Sadly, still no response.

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TBC

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A/N: I haven't even told you guys yet what happened to Don and Charlie. =p

This story won't be very long and yes, all will be explained. I will try to update soon, but I do have to mention that my life is kind of hectic right now.


	2. Chapter 2

|Disclaimer: See chapter one. Not mine. |

|Spoilers: No real spoilers.|

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No Regrets: part two

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Alan's plan was simple, talk to his son and take a long hot shower. Maybe not _that_ simple. The last part was easy enough, he'd promised to take care of himself and in exchange Robin and Amita would call if there was any change. _When_ there was any change. Of course he knew that they would call anyway, with or without that shower. The first part of his plan was a lot more complex. In order to talk about a problem one needed to know what the problem was.

What Alan didn't expect to find was an empty house. "Charlie?" he called for his youngest son. No reaction. Multiple possibilities crossed his mind. What if something bad had happened?

He breathed a sigh of relief when he found his youngest son in the garden. Charlie was standing near the Koi pond, staring at... he didn't know what his son was staring at.

"Charlie?"

"Dad," he acknowledged the older man's presence.

"Amita told me you're not coming to the hospital to see your brother," Alan started. It sounded like a statement, but he hoped it would come across as an invitation, an invitation to explain what was wrong. _Talk to me, Charlie. What's the matter?_

"I'm not."

"I gathered that, but _why_, Charlie?" he fired the one question he couldn't possibly guess the answer to. "Amita told me you were _angry_." He stressed the word _angry_, anger was something his mind couldn't quite grasp, not in this situation. Unless of course it was anger directed at the man who'd fired the gun. Then yes, he was angry too.

"It's just that… I don't like him putting his life on the line like that."

"And you believe that I love it?" A rhetorical question, of course. His oldest son knew all too well how his dad felt about his career choice. Charlie knew too. Alan Eppes hated his son's job, or rather the dangers involved, with a passion.

"That's not what I meant. I don't need him to protect me all the time, treat me like I'm something so fragile I might break when touched. I can take care of myself." Charlie kept looking down, like he was afraid to face his father, afraid to be confronted with how wrong his words were. He _knew_. He knew, but couldn't make himself believe it.

"Don protecting you has nothing to do with that. He doesn't see you as fragile, he sees you as his little brother. That's who you are. All he wants is for you to be safe. Wouldn't you do the same for him?"

Yes, he _would_ do the same.

"That's exactly what I mean. There is no 'would', I'm always the one needing protection," he shot back.

"That's not true, Charlie. Don needs your protection too, he needs it more than you know."

Don, his independent and strong son, the son who had to be a grown-up when in fact he was still a kid. It wasn't fair, but things happened the way they did and there was no going back.

And Charlie… Charlie didn't even know how strong he really was. A lot stronger than the young Eppes led himself to believe, that was for sure.

"Then why am I not there for him?" he whispered.

Alan placed his hand on Charlie's left shoulder. "You are there for him, _you are_. He knows that."

"I can't see him like that. Not when it's me who should be lying there."

Alan suspected they'd arrived at the real problem. "Neither one of you should be lying there."

Charlie considered his dad's words. They were true, very true, all his words.

"What do you say we go inside?" Alan offered.

"Sounds good," Charlie admitted.

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Voices. _More voices_. More background noise. Beeping. He was sure the voices sounded familiar. He knew these people. Female voices. He tried opening his eyes, but his eyelids felt so heavy it seemed like an impossible task.

"Don?"

That particular voice sounded like music to his ears.

"'bin?" he croaked.

"Yes, Don. I'm here and so is Amita. Can you open your eyes for us."

"Can try."

"There you are."

He found Robin and Amita smiling down on him.

"How are you feeling?" Amita asked.

"'kay. Good stuff," he admitted with a small smile.

Don felt like he was slipping away again, much needed sleep trying to claim him. Still, he needed to ask, "How's Charlie?" It took one hell of an effort to get the words out. His eyelids drooped and he knew he couldn't hold on to consciousness much longer.

"Charlie's fine," Amita answered his question. It wasn't the whole truth, but it would have to do for now, she figured.

"We'll be here when you wake up," Robin added. She wasn't sure if he'd heard her words, but it didn't really matter. He'd see when he woke up again.

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Alan Eppes jumped a little when his phone rang. "Amita," he informed Charlie.

"That's wonderful," Charlie heard his dad's voice, "I'll be right there."

"I will tell him that."

Charlie looked up when his father put the phone down. He could pretend that he wasn't really listening, but then he would be lying to himself. The more he pretended, the more he saw his walls collapse. Walls he'd subconsciously built to prevent any emotional trauma.

"Your brother woke up, I'm going back to the hospital. Are you coming with me?"

"No. I need time to think."

"What do you want me to tell him? He asked for you."

"Tell him." Charlie sighed. "Tell him I need time to think about what happened."

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"Charlie?"

"You don't have to worry about him. He has a mild concussion, the doctor said he'll be okay."

"Something's wrong?"

Alan didn't know if it was a statement or a question. He couldn't lie to his son, he could, however, bend the truth just a little.

"He's a bit cranky. Head injuries will do that to a man."

Don shook his head. "Angry. With me."

Alan didn't react. His sons kept surprising him. He should've known that with Don's remarkable sense of perception, nothing would get past him. Not even when said son was a little high on pain meds. How his oldest son knew that his youngest son was in fact _angry_, was beyond him.

"Eggshells," Don supplied, "every time I mention Charlie."

"Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"You're a terrible liar, dad."

"I didn't say anything," Alan defended himself.

"Enough."

"I didn't want to upset you. You should rest, Donnie."

"Wanna see him, talk to him."

Alan fell quiet and started studying his hands.

"He doesn't _want _to see me, does he?"

"Look, Donnie, he's a little confused right now. He'll come and visit you as soon as he's feeling better." Alan truly wanted to believe his own words.

Don shifted a little in bed, in an attempt to get more comfortable. He tried to hide the wince from his dad, but didn't succeed.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, dad. I guess I should be happy he's not doing the NP thing again." A lot more sadness came through than he'd intended.

"Charlie will get-"

"Get over the fact that I saved his life?" Don interrupted his dad. He didn't want to put it like that, but the words came anyway.

"If you put it that way, then, yes he'll get over…" Alan fell quiet again. "You scared me, you know that?"

"Hmm," Don allowed.

Alan rested his hand on Don's shoulder, just like he'd placed his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Get some rest, son." He didn't need a specialist to tell him that his son looked tired. More like exhausted.

"All I do," Don mumbled before drifting off again.

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	3. Chapter 3

A/N: One chapter to go after this one. I know it took me quite a while to post this awfully short chapter. I will try to post the final chapter as soon as I can (if my exams and my way too hectic life will let me).

Disclaimer and other info: see chapter one.

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No Regrets: part three

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It took Charlie another two days to finally convince himself that going to the hospital was the right thing to do. Not just right, also necessary. He felt a little nervous, he didn't have a clue how his brother would react. Would he be angry? It took him almost a week to come and visit his own brother. Dad was angry, although he tried not to show it. Charlie could _feel_ it. With a shaky finger he pressed the elevator button. _Third floor, third floor_. He expected to find his father in the corridor, waiting for the elevator. When he didn't see his dad, he quietly dared a few steps forward. _Room 312_. This wasn't supposed to be difficult. Then why was he trembling?

"Can I help you sir?"

One of the nurses. She was probably wondering why he was standing in the middle of the corridor staring at the wall opposite the elevator.

"Er… I'm looking for Don Eppes' room." He hated the sound of his own voice._ I'm his brother_. _Have I been here in the last few days? No. Why? I don't really know. I guess I needed to think_. Not that thinking had worked out quite the way he'd planned.

"He's in room 312. Family? You look just like him." She gave him a genuine smile.

"I'm… I'm his brother," he admitted. There was no way back now. She was going to ask why he hadn't visited his own brother.

"His room is just down the hall, to your right."

Charlie sighed in relief. She wasn't pointing any fingers.

"Thank you," he managed.

Charlie stopped at the door of his brother's room. _So far so good_. The door was half open and he could peek inside. A male nurse was helping his brother out of bed.

"Easy, Donnie," he heard his father's voice. He couldn't see his dad, but he knew the man was right there, not far from his brother.

"Am…taking… it easy."

The pain in his brother's voice made him flinch. He didn't have to be a genius to know that bullet wounds hurt. Hurt a lot, it seemed. Charlie couldn't bare seeing his brother like this. Don wasn't weak.

"You're doing great," the male nurse encouraged his brother.

"Not doing… anything," Don threw back.

"One step at a time, Donnie." _Dad again_.

His brother was trying very hard not to fall. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't. Not now. Suddenly, staring at the floor seemed like an interesting thing to do.

"Charlie?"

He immediately looked up and found his brother staring his way. Wasn't the door enough cover? Apparently not.

He couldn't do this. He quickly turned and walked away. Just like that, without saying a word.

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Alan Eppes was torn between staying with his oldest son and running after his youngest. He didn't quite understand what he'd just witnessed. Apparently, nurse Daniel, who was helping Don back to bed, didn't get it either. He tried to hide it, but couldn't really hide the confusion that immediately crossed his face.

"Are you okay, Donnie?" Alan asked his son, clearly concerned.

"I'm fine dad, you can go after him." Even a short sentence like that left Don breathless. He would've gone after Charlie himself, if not for the damn hole in his right side.

His sons knew him. They knew when there was no stopping their dad, not when he'd made up his mind.

"I'll be back soon," he added before leaving Don's room.

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Charlie was gone. He couldn't have reached the elevator that fast. Alan Eppes figured his son had taken the stairs. He quickly crossed the distance between his son's room and the elevator, pushed the button and waited impatiently for the 'ping'. _Hurry up_. It seemed like the elevator was moving slower on purpose. Maybe he should've gone after his son via the stairs. Or maybe not, Charlie was quicker.

No Charlie on the ground floor either. Alan sighed. He hated moments like this one. He hated feeling this powerless, not being able to do anything at all. He wished Margaret was here with him. He wasn't the voice of reason, _she was_. Her guidance was more than he could hope for. He made his way to the entrance, but he was already too late. Charlie had left the hospital before Alan could say a single word to his son.

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Alan Eppes almost bumped into the nurse who had helped his son out of bed earlier.

"Daniel," he greeted him.

"He's asleep," Daniel informed him.

Alan nodded knowingly. "He seemed tired." _Understatement of the century_.

Alan noticed the nurse's questioning gaze. The man tried to hide it, but was clearly wondering what exactly had transpired. Daniel also knew that it was none of his business. Besides, he had work to do.

"I shouldn't be keeping you from your work," Alan broke the uncomfortable silence.

He received a polite smile in return. "I suppose I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Eppes."

"Alan," the older man corrected, "and yes, I won't be going anywhere."

_No surprise there._ "You are getting enough rest, I hope."

"My son keeps ordering me to sleep," Alan stated matter-of-factly.

"Then that's probably a wise idea," Daniel pointed out. He gave the older man a short smile and patted Alan's shoulder once.

"See you tomorrow."

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"Maybe I should go to my apartment," Don offered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Donnie. Whether you like it or not, you need people to take care of you right now."

"It's Charlie's place. If he doesn't want to see me then maybe I should-"

"Will you stop that. What matters right now is that you recover. That doesn't include you going to your apartment to do so. You're not going to do this on your own." _I won't let you_.

The older Eppes didn't leave his son any room to disagree. They sat there in silence for a while, trying hard not to think about… think about Charlie. The two of them came to the same conclusion, something needed to be done and soon.

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tbc


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

Other info: see chapter one.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Here's the final chapter. Enjoy!

No Regrets: Chapter 4

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Alan Eppes found his youngest son in the basement, hiding in his own house.

"Dad, I'm er… busy," Charlie tried when he saw his father coming down the stairs.

"Staring at an empty chalkboard can be time-consuming," Alan replied matter-of-factly.

"I don't feel like talking right now." Charlie didn't make eye contact.

"Charlie, why don't you sit down for a moment. We need to talk."

"About?"

Alan ignored his son's question. Charlie knew what he wanted to talk about.

"At the hospital there were moments when your brother didn't fully wake up, but mumbled a few words."

"Dad, I-"

"No, Charlie, listen. He thought he was talking to you. You know what he did? He squeezed my hand reassuringly and told me, told _you_ Charlie, that it was okay. He literally said: 'It's okay, Chuck.' What I'm trying to say is that –

"That I should've been there for him. I get it, dad."

"What I'm trying to say is," he repeated, "that I should've been there for _you_. While _I_ was still angry, he'd already forgiven you. Of course he was sad, but he understood and was ready to comfort you. I should've understood, like your brother did."

"I heard you tried," Charlie gave his dad that much.

"Well, then I should've tried harder."

Charlie looked up and eyed his dad. For a moment he wondered if his eyes were as watery as his dad's.

"I'm going to the store, you know how to reach me." Alan made his way back up the stairs, leaving his son alone with his thoughts.

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He couldn't stay in the basement forever. Charlie decided he had to face this _situation_.

Don was shivering. His brother was still asleep, but kept mumbling words. They didn't make any sense. Charlie threw a glance at the discarded blanket on the floor. This was easy. Discarded blanket on the floor plus shivering brother equals picking up the blanket to cover his brother. Easy. Or maybe not.

He knew this would happen. He knew dad would bring Don to his place. Then why wasn't he prepared? He quietly crouched down and grabbed the blanket.

_What if he wakes up? _

"_Am sorry,"_ Don mumbled.

Don didn't need to be sorry. His brother hadn't done anything wrong, in what kind of a world would he need to…_ In a world where the younger brother blames the older brother for saving his behind_. It's not that he really blamed his brother, but that was the message he'd sent. He quickly covered his brother with the blanket and turned to leave.

"Charlie?"

He hoped Don had just uttered his name in his sleep. He quietly turned around and found his brother awake and looking at him.

"I should probably…" Charlie began, pointing to something behind him with his thumb.

"Go?" Don managed.

_There's no right answer, is there?_

"Charlie, don't-"

"Don't what? I can't just forget what happened," the words came out of his mouth a lot faster than he'd expected. _What I did. _"What I did wasn't right. It matters."

"No such thing as right."

"You saved my life, I should've been there for you." Those were the simple facts.

"I think I understand."

"That's my whole point, my behavior wasn't exactly understandable."

"You of all people should know that human behaviour can't be brought down to just a few equations."

"I know." Charlie nodded in agreement.

"I _did_ push you. The bump on your head proves it."

"Actually, that's the ground's fault. The bruise on my shoulder's your mistake," Charlie corrected with a small smile.

"You're welcome," Don said sincerely and reached for his brother's hand before squeezing it.

"Just promise me one thing, Don."

"What?"

"Don't go looking for bullets."

'_Part of the job description'_ wasn't the best reply, but it was the first thought which came to mind.

"I won't," he said instead, "but technically speaking you were the one in his line of sight."

"Oh believe me, I remember," Charlie admitted.

"I don't look for trouble on purpose, that's all I'm saying."

"You'd better not," Charlie threatened his older brother.

"Or what?" Don was curious now.

"I'd have to call for reinforcements."

"Dad? He doesn't scare me."

Charlie eyed him dumbfounded.

"Okay, maybe he scares me a little," Don admitted with a smile. "Help me up," he didn't make it a request. He was tired of sitting down, lying down, sleeping, tired of doing nothing.

"You should lie down again. I think it's better you stay on the couch and rest."

"I should do a lot of things. I need a change of scenery."

"What do you have in mind?" No point in arguing with his FBI brother. The man had a gun _and_ handcuffs.

"Koi pond."

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Alan didn't want to leave his oldest son alone, but Don had insisted. _Dad, I'm okay. You can go to the store_. Convincing words, but not convincing at all, not to a parent's ears. Traffic seemed to move a lot slower, maybe because he wanted to get home as soon as possible. Sure, Charlie was home, but his sons weren't exactly talking. _Still_ not talking.

He expected a lot of things, but not what he found when he entered the Craftsman.

"Dad," Don managed to say. The expression on his face was a lot like a child's, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dad had told him to stay put and here he was, on his feet with his arm around Charlie's shoulders and Charlie's arm around his waist.

"I'm gone for an hour, I come back and catch you-"

"Aiding and abetting," Don provided.

"Aiding, maybe," Charlie admitted, "the abetting part, not so much."

Alan Eppes turned to leave for the kitchen.

"You're not going to…" Charlie started.

"I'm just happy the two of you are talking again," Alan said, the relief audible in his voice.

"Can't say that I disagree," Don added.

Then Alan Eppes knew, things were going to be fine again.

"I'm going to prepare dinner. Oh and Donnie? Sit down before you fall down."

_Fragile, handle with care_. Don suspected those words were written on his forehead.

Father Eppes left his boys standing in the middle of the living room like that. It felt right.

"Don, you look tired. What do you say taxi Eppes returns you to the couch?"

"Hey, I paid for this ride. Koi pond," Don insisted.

They fell silent for a moment. Things weren't okay yet, but they would be.

"You know I'd catch a bullet for you anytime, right?"

"You're an anomaly, _Donald_."

"Happy to be of service, _Chuck_," Don replied lovingly.

"What I'm trying to say is that-" Charlie fell quiet again, but Don knew what his little brother was trying to tell him.

"Love you too, buddy."

They didn't need any words. They never did.

The end

A/N: Yes, I am leaving this story a little open. It feels right to end it here. I truly hope you liked it. Thanks for reviewing.


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